Learning Curve
by LaraCroftTR65
Summary: Peeta is just back from the first games and his brothers are fascinated by his prosthetic leg. But Peeta is still upset and his brothers know exactly how to cheer him up. Light hearted fun for post Hunger Games.


'So you can't feel anything?' Rye asked, tapping Peeta's foot.

Peeta rolled his eyes at his brother, who was kneeling on the ground in front of him, admiring his artificial leg.  
'No, Rye. It's plastic and metal. I can feel nothing below my knee on the left leg,' Peeta explained.

Appam, who was sitting beside Peeta on the bed, squeezed his shoulders reassuringly.  
'This is so...cool!' Rye shouted.

'Yeah, it's awesome,' Peeta muttered unhappily. 'I love not being able to walk properly and having to remember to attach my leg every morning unless I want to face plant the floor.'

'It would make a pretty mean Halloween costume though,' Rye grinned. 'Imagine you hopping about with part of your leg missing, covered in fake blood! You'd win every competition for sure!'

'What an endearing thought,' Appam interjected sarcastically. 'And so comforting to your younger brother.'

'Always look on the bright side,' Rye shrugged, unfazed by it all.

Peeta sighed inwardly. He loved his brother, but right now, he could not see the bright side. He had only received this prosthetic limb a few weeks ago and the physical therapy that accompanied his new leg was hell. He still walked with a limp, even after three hours a day with Xantia, his therapist with shiny green eyes and a friendly smile for everyone that stretched across her entire face and made her eyes crinkle.

Peeta's downcast nature was something his brothers were not used to. Of course they had expected the Games to change him, but the one thing that they could count on was Peeta's happiness and joy for life. No matter how bad it seemed, even after his mother beating him maliciously and calling him a 'no good, dirty, rotten, stupid, idiotic waste of space', Peeta always managed to smile. It was something that both of his brothers admired and secretly felt envious of. Peeta's nature was so whole-heatedly good, he could turn any situation around in his favour. Seeing him downtrodden was unusual and both of his older brothers felt a primal instinct to protect their younger sibling. Appam and Rye exchanged glances while Peeta stared sullenly out of the window. Appam nodded at Rye and nothing more was said on the matter. The two of them knew of only one way to cheer Peeta up when he was sad. They had used it on a few rare occasions when they were younger, and both knew exactly what they had to do.

Rye put the plan into action slowly.  
'So, you can't feel this foot,' he said, tapping the artificial foot, causing a hollow sound to echo around the room.  
'But you can feel this one,' he added slyly, gently rubbing his fingers along the sole of Peeta's remaining foot.

Instantly, Peeta jerked his foot away and giggled childishly.  
'Quit it, Rye!' He scolded his older brother. 'That tickles!'

'That's the point,' Rye said patronisingly.

'Ah come on, Peeta. It's not like you're...ticklish or anything,' Appam said, sugar coating his voice a little too much and raising his eyebrows, leaning into the younger of his two brothers menacingly.

Then Peeta flashed back to his childhood. He knew exactly where this was headed and he did not like it.

'No, wait, guys! I'm fine! You don't have to -'

His brothers moved in closer, caging him in on top of his bed.  
'Guys, please. Don't,' he begged, his tone becoming more desperate.

They waved their fingers at him and there was an evil glint in their blue eyes.

'No, don't!' That was the last thing Peeta said before his brothers pounced on him.

Working together, they pinned Peeta to the bed and began tickling him.  
Peeta squirmed and squealed, laughing hysterically and shouting in protest.

'Stop,' he choked out. 'That's...not fair!...quit...'  
But Peeta couldn't finish his sentences through his laughter.

He tried to curl up to protect himself, but his brothers had an advantage; they stretched him out again and tickled him under the arms, under his chin, his stomach, his ribs, anywhere they could.

Mercifully, someone entered the room and the torture stopped.  
'What's all the shouting about?' Delly asked, pushing her blonde curls out of her face.

'Help...Delly...,' Peeta mumbled from under his two brothers.

'Nothing,' Appam and Rye chorused innocently.

'They're...tickling...me,' Peeta stammered breathlessly.

'We're cheering him up,' Rye elaborated.

'More like...torturing me,' Peeta interjected.

'He's exaggerating. It's just because he's ticklish,' Appam explained.

'Delly, you're friends with Peeta, right?' Rye asked mischievously.

'Yeah,' she beamed.

'Why don't you help cheer him up too then?'

'No Delly!' Peeta yelled from the bed.

'Hmmm,' Delly pretended to consider the option.

'Delly, you're...my friend. You're supposed to...help me, not...them.'

'But I would be helping you. I would be cheering you up,' she trilled innocently, her eyes wide and her mouth scrunched to one side in mock confusion.

'Delly, don't!' He begged. 'It's not...fair! I'm...ticklish! Please!'

'Okay I'm in,' she grinned.

'Great!' Rye shouted, punching the air. Peeta groaned.

'Grab his foot Del,' Appam said. 'That will drive him crazy.'

'Make sure it's the right one or he won't feel it,' Rye chuckled humorously.

Delly glanced at Peeta. 'Get him!' She screamed and the onslaught started again.

Finally, they got tired and stopped. Peeta lay in a heap on the bed, unable to move. His breathing was rapid as he tried to catch his breath.

'You...are...so...mean...,' he said, breathlessly.

'Lighten up. You're not sad anymore are you?' Rye asked.

'No!' Peeta shouted quickly and his friend and brothers laughed at his eagerness. And as Peeta lay on the bed, trying to recover, he made an oath with himself. He was never going to be sad in front of them ever again.


End file.
